The bell rang.

"For homework, you shall write me a two-foot essay on the transfiguration of humans," Professor McGonagall shouted over the noise of students packing up their necessities, "Class dismissed!"

But there was no point in dismissing them, because half of the class was already out the door. Aimee stayed back, she had a question for Professor McGonagall, who was now packing her things hurriedly. Aimee walked to her desk,

"Um, Professor?"

Professor McGonagall looked up at her in mild surprise,

"Yes?"

"I was wondering… whether you- well – I-"

"Spit it out Miss Hallicraft, I have a meeting to get to, and no time to get there"

"I need help to make a dress. With magic" she added, at her teachers' furrowed brow. Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow,

"Isn't this something more under the subject of 'Charms'?" she asked

"Well… yes, but, it's not something to ask a… a male"

"Yes, of course. I understand. You want to make a dress?" she said, thinking, "Well I personally never really took to making clothing, but I can give you the name of a book in the library which will help you"

She pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill, hastily opened an ink bottle, dipped the quill in it and wrote so fast she was finished within a couple seconds. She handed it gruffly to Aimee,

"There will some spells in there that might be difficult for you, but I'm sure you'll be fine, after all," she explained, "you are in mine and Professor Flitwick's N.E.W.T. classes. Good luck." And with a flash of her robes, she marched out of the classroom.

Aimee looked at the parchment in her hands. The book was called 'Creating Clothing for the Creative' by 'Esmeralda Knight'

It was lunchtime, so she decided to visit the library on her way to Great Hall. She asked Madam Pince about the book, and the usually snippy librarian raised her hand, and pointed a thin finger vaguely in the left direction, without actually specifying its location.

Sighing, she walked in the direction she was pointed to and slowly browsed the shelves, running her finger across the spine of each book, to make sure she didn't miss it, and she muttered the names under her breath,

"Collecting Cloaks… Conjuring Cats…Creating Clothing for the Creative – aha!" she spotted the book, and pulled it from the shelf, flicking through it as she walked back to the librarians desk. There were diagrams of threaded needles floating in mid-air, materials being woven together, and instructions on creating almost every type of clothing Aimee could think of. She checked it out from the library and made her way down to the Great Hall.

The ceiling, as always, reflected the weather outside, and at this moment there were very light snowflakes beginning to fall. She sat down at the Slytherin table and helped herself to some avocado and salmon sandwiches and water. As she ate her sandwiches, she opened Creating Clothes for the Creative, and read the contents page:

Introduction to sewing with magic... 1

Threading a needle with thread... 4

Bewitching a needle to sew...6

How to measure...11

Cutting patterns...17

Sewing shapes...29

Sewing pants...34

Sewing shirts...52

Sewing dresses...73

Sewing skirts...95

Sewing robes... 107

She turned to page 73 and scanned the information written on the pages. She absentmindedly scratched the scars on her right hand, and then winced. It was easy to forget that they still hurt, but they got itchy so often, she couldn't help it. She suddenly got a flash of a distant memory, only for a split second. The wind was flowing through her hair, and suddenly, she heard screams and all she remembered was pain. She wasn't sure from where this had come from, but she had an idea.

Scoffing down the rest of her sandwiches, she slammed the book shut and headed to the third floor, where the Charms classroom was located. She was twenty-five minutes early, so she slumped down against the wall, opened her Charms: N.E.W.T. and began to read.

Draco was throwing his belongings into his trunk, grabbing whatever he could reach and chucking it messily onto the pile of clothes situated in the centre of the trunk, the letter from his father still open on his bed. He had received it from Professor Snape; it had a few simple words written on it:

Come home quickly, we've arranged your departure.

He had no idea what was going on, all that Professor Snape had told him was to come to his office, all packed, in one hour. He had 10 minutes left.

After deciding he'd packed enough, he managed to close his trunk by using 'Colloportus' and rushed to Professor Snape's office. Upon reaching the dingy room, his Head of House immediately looked up.

"Come Draco," he said quietly, "The Portkey leaves in a minute."

He flicked his wand at Draco's trunk, and it vanished out of his hands, he assumed it was sent to his home.

"Professor, what's happening, why does my father want me home?"

"It's only for a couple of days, you've been given permission, now hurry!"

"But-"

"No time!" growled Snape, as he grabbed Draco's hand, and pushed it onto metal jug that Draco hadn't noticed before. As he did this, the jug glowed blue, and Draco felt himself being pulled from behind, somewhere around his navel area, and then being swirled around.

He landed feet first in the grand foyer of his home, but his landing had been so abrupt that he fell to his knees, and the jug clanged as it collided with the marble floor. The noise had obviously gained the attention of the inhabitants of the Manor, because his mother and father came rushing into the room to investigate. Draco would've thought that they'd look pleased, at least relieved to know it was him, but the haughtiness that usually ruled their faces was gone, there was no confidence in their expressions. In fact, they looked scared and tired. Lucius outstretched his hand to help Draco from the floor silently.

Before Draco could ask what was going on, he saw another figure entering the room. With dirty, black, unruly hair, a gaunt pale expression, wild eyes and an evil smile, Bellatrix Lestrange swiftly entered the room, her wand in her hand.

"Ahh, he has arrived!" she exclaimed with glee, "I shall notify Him at once!" and she left the room just as swiftly as she'd entered it.

"Mother, Father," started Draco, turning to each of his parents, "what is going o-"

"Don't talk, just stay silent unless he asks you a question" his father responded in a whisper so quiet, Draco only understood what he was being told a few seconds later.

"Who-"

"Sh!" His mother said. They led him quietly through the grand foyer, and down the main corridor that led to several different rooms on the East side of the Manor. Draco didn't dare say a word, and when his father opened the fourth door to his right, he understood why.

Voldemort was sitting in a high backed chair at the end of the room. There was a fire crackling excitedly behind him, and it cast an eerie glow around them, for it was the only source of light.

His parents bowed their heads, and Draco followed suit. He could feel his mother's hand gripping his with such force; he thought the bones in his hand would surely break. He didn't mind though, he felt slightly safer knowing that she was there, holding his hand, as though she was almost telling him, Everything will be alright Draco. But he knew she could not say this now, because he'd know it was a lie. To Draco, his father was always a brave man, but now, standing by his side, Draco could literally feel the fear emanating from his father, and all his hope dashed.

What if he wants to kill me? Draco thought wildly. He suddenly felt his mother's hand let go of his own, and a stranger's hand was now pushing him from behind, leading him closer to Voldemort, who was watching this all with a look of indifference on his face.

Draco was now mere feet away from Him, and out of fear of punishment, he feel to his knees.

Voldemort looked slightly pleased.

"Your son," he spoke to Lucius and Narcissa, "is a fast learner, and smart. I like that." He looked down at Draco, got to his feet and said: "Stand"

Draco quickly got to his feet, but stood with his head facing the floor. He was petrified; he didn't even want to look at The Dark Lord. He saw his red, gleaming eyes from across the room earlier, and he hoped it'd be for the last time. Voldemort started pacing slowly in a circle around Draco, observing him, judging him on whether or not he was fit for the job he had in mind.

"How old are you?" he asked him, still pacing. The question surprised Draco, who answered with a delay:

"I'm sixteen"

"How many O.W.L.'s did you receive?"

Draco counted the subjects in his head as quickly as he could. He was scared that a delay too long in his answer would result in his death.

"Seven"

"Impressive, I myself received eight. What was your lowest grade?"

"Exceeds Expectations"

"Very well, and your marks on Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts?"

"Outstanding"

Voldemort turned to Bellatrix, who was standing in the corner, watching the scene with such glee, that anymore happiness and she would explode.

"You were right Bellatrix!" he told her, "Smart boy he is, now," –Voldemort turned to face Draco – "is he brave?"

Draco didn't know whether or not to answer, but the looks on his parent's faces told him to stay silent.

"I have a job for you; failure to accept it will result in your death... and possibly your parents death aswell"

Draco gulped. He told himself no matter the job, he'd do it.

"Well?" Voldemort asked, his voice slightly rose, "Are you ready to hear it?"

"Yes"

"You are to kill Albus Dumbledore" he told him simply, as if he was telling him the weather. Draco's heart sunk at once. True, he never did like Dumbledore, but he'd never want to kill him, or kill anyone for that matter.

"Yes" he answered in a hoarse voice that was not entirely his own. Voldemort smiled.

"Excellent, then nobody dies today, at least yet. The day is still young."

Some of the Death Eaters in the room sniggered.

"Hold out your left arm" he ordered Draco. He did as he was told; he stuck out his left arm. Voldemort pushed Draco's sleeve up with his wand and then pressed it hard into his forearm. Draco suddenly felt a sharp pain up and down his left arm. It was a burning feeling, like it was on fire. He screwed up his eyes in pain, but did not make a noise; he did not want to be perceived as weak. After a minute, the pain stopped, and Draco felt Voldemort's wand being lifted off his arm. Where there was once nothing, there was now a Dark Mark on his forearm. It was black, with pink around the outline because his skin was just burned. His sleeve slid back down his arm, and back into place.

"Leave now" Voldemort said coldly, plopping back down into his chair, resting his head on his hand and examining his wand, as if deep in thought, "You may return to Hogwarts now if you wish, but do not forget your job."

Draco nodded, gulped and bowed, then quickly strode to the other end of the room, where his parents were waiting for him. They joined his pace, and the three of them left the room together.

The door did not close immediately behind them. Bellatrix had followed them out of the room, and closed the door behind her gently. That was when Narcissa turned on her sister,

"You!" she whispered harshly, as they walked briskly down the hall, "How dare you!"

They had now reached the end of the corridor, and the two women stopped abruptly. Lucius led his son a few feet away.

"How dare I?" Bellatrix replied, "I have just helped bestow a great honour on your family! The Dark Lord himself, just gave your son the chance to prove himse-" Narcissa didn't allow her sister to finish,

"That could very well result in his death!" she shrieked. There was a distant echo in the room.

"This was not for you to decide!" she continued, "It was not your place to offer my son to him! It was mine!"

"So you're jealous I'd thought of it first, is that it?" Bellatrix rounded on her sister, she was now yelling too.

"NO! I never wanted him to do this! How dare you! You are tearing my family apart! You have betrayed your own sister by taking away her only son! How could you? If my son dies, just remember, his blood will be on your hands!" The last words of Narcissa's yells echoed loudly throughout the room, as she turned on her heel and left. Bellatrix did the same, in the opposite direction.

Lucius's hand left Draco's shoulder as he left to follow his wife in order to comfort her, and Draco stood there, stunned at what he just saw, his mothers' shrieks still echoing in his ears.

The last lesson of the day for Aimee was Defence Against the Dark Arts, and it was with the Gryffindor's. She entered the classroom with the rest of the students, without even realising that Draco was missing, put her books on her desk and sat down.

"Books and utensils away, wands out." Snape told them, "We will be practising non-verbal spells again, I will pair you up."

Within a minute, Snape had paired each Slytherin with a Gryffindor. It was obvious to Aimee he took pleasure in this, because everyone hated their partner, more or less. Aimee's partner was Pavarti Patil, to the right of her was Pansy and her partner Hermione, and to her left was Seamus Finnigan paired with Blaise Zabini.

"Just like last lesson, disarming spells only." Snape made a point to put emphasis on these words, because he knew, just like the rest of them, this would end in disaster.

The class spent the better half of an hour attempting to disarm their partner without speaking. Last lesson they had all been muttering the incantation under their breath, but this time managed to refrain from doing so.

"I wonder where Malfoy is," Aimee heard Seamus whisper to Harry, "he never misses a lesson."

"Five points from Gryffindor" Snape snarled

"What for?" Seamus asked, turning around

"For speaking out of turn"

"But-"

"Speak again, and it'll be a further five points, Finnigan."

Fortunately Seamus had the good sense to stay quiet.

"Git" Aimee heard Ron mutter, but Snape evidently hadn't. The silence went on for a further few minutes when Draco was brought up again,

"Where's your boyfriend Pansy?" Aimee looked diagonally to her right in surprise. Hermione had whispered this to Pansy. Aimee quickly looked at her fellow Slytherin, who had evidently turned red in the face, she suddenly whispered,

"Furnunculus!" But Hermione had heard her, and was much faster than Pansy, and she reciprocated the spell with

"Protego!" but this was much louder than a whisper, and the whole class, including Snape, turned to the two girls. The jinx had rebounded off of Hermione's shield and hit Pansy square in the face. She let out a loud wail, and her hands immediately flew to her face. Hermione looked slightly pleased with herself, but she knew straight away she wouldn't get away with it, not in Snape's classroom.

"Granger!" yelled Snape, "Thirty points from Gryffindor! I said disarm ONLY!"

Hermione was ready to defend herself

"But she was the one that jinxed me!" Snape disregarded her comment,

"Zabini, take her to the Hospital Wing" and some of them watched as Blaise took Pansy by the arm, and led her out of the room.

"And detention Miss Granger, I will not have such behaviour in my classroom."

Aimee had enough, she was tired of Snape picking on the Gryffindors, it was completely unfair.

"That's ridiculous!" she yelled, all heads turned to look at her in surprise, some of the Slytherins in disgust. Here she was, a pureblood Slytherin, defending a muggle-born Gryffindor.

"That is completely and utterly unfair, and you know it! You always do this to the Gryffindors, you are always biased towards the Slytherins, and I don't see the other Heads of Houses doing this to students in other Houses! You can't just give a detention to someone who was defending themselves! If it were a Slytherin you wouldn't be so quick to punish, would you?"

Snape stood there, along with the rest of the class, in mild shock. Nobody ever dared to speak to him like this. Aimee opened her mouth to continue, but he interrupted her,

"Stay quiet Miss Hallicraft, do not dig yourself a deeper hole"

This enraged Aimee, he was just proving her point.

"If I was a Gryffindor that would've given me detention for a week!" she screeched, "Go on! Punish me! Prove me wrong! But then again, I'm a Slytherin, wouldn't want to punish a Slytherin, now would you?"

Snape curled his lips, he looked enraged as well. The rest of the class stood silently, waiting for him to start yelling, but he didn't, though when he spoke his voice was louder than it usually was,

"You know what Miss Hallicraft," he hesitated, "Twenty points from Slytherin"

The Slytherins in the room threw her dirty looks.

"What? No detention?"

"Get out" he snapped, pointing his finger at the door, "Get out of my classroom"

Aimee didn't argue, she walked to her desk, picked up her bag and stalked out of the classroom, muttering as she went,

"If I was in Gryffindor it would've been detention for two weeks"

And so she spent the rest of her day in the Slytherin common room finishing her homework, and wondering where Draco indeed was.